


til tomorrow

by Sevi (KelSevi)



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 12:16:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13235568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KelSevi/pseuds/Sevi
Summary: But he couldn't quite keep his eyes on the wooden target ahead of him. It was boring to look at, even with the painted circles on its face. His eyes just kept wandering, and wandering, and wandering across the field, to the soldiers laying deep into the training dummies a distance away...And when his eyes fell on solid red armor, he couldn't quite find the willpower to look away.





	til tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this is sufficient enough for you, Waen.

_Ugh, he's so pretty when he swings._

  
He should have been training. He knew he should be, what with preparations to head into the Sylvan Shrine in a little under a day's time. Alm said they needed an archer, and Tobin had gotten a pretty grisly wound on one of his arms that would need some serious patching up, so ol' Python was up to bat, instead.

  
But he couldn't quite keep his eyes on the wooden target ahead of him. It was awfully boring to look at, even with the painted circles on its face. His eyes just kept wandering, and wandering, and wandering across the field, to the soldiers laying deep into the training dummies a distance away...

  
And when his eyes fell on solid red armor, he couldn't quite find the willpower to look away.

 

  
...

 

  
He hadn't known Lukas long. Just enough to consider him a pal and drinking companion, but there were obvious differences between them. Not just the usual physical aspects, like how tall and lanky he was compared to the short, stout stature of his red friend, and how nicely he could fit his head up against the crook of Python's neck, but he was just so damn _friendly._ It almost pissed him off how friendly Lukas was, no matter who he spoke to. It was like he took Clive's word (almost worthless as it was, the way he talked about the haves and the have-nots) to heart, and purified it beyond simple fronts and appearances. Like he actually believed in it.

  
He spoke to Python no differently than he did to Forsyth. And he spoke to the two of them no differently than he did Clive, or Alm. Hell, whether it be a scared new recruit moments after their first kill, or a seasoned veteran who's seen bloodshed a thousand times over...

  
Lukas never treated any of them different.

  
It pissed Python off to no end how comfortable he felt around him.

 

  
...

 

  
"Oi, Luke," the archer called from a walk's distance away. He waved in wide arcs as he walked over, to catch the ginger stud's attention.

  
He didn't notice at first, but once he grew aware of the casual gait crunching cold grass behind him, Lukas halted his training with a heave of breath and turned himself around to face Python.

  
"Ah," he began, out of breath, "Python. Have you finished your duties for the day?"

  
Python scratched his left cheek. "Yeah." A plain lie. "I see you're still hard at work, yourself. You ready for the trip tomorrow?"

  
" 'Ready' is a bit of an understatement," Lukas replied, a quick smile crossing his lips in the meanwhile. "I've only just found time to get in a bit of training in-between chores and obligations."

  
"Right, right, lieutenant duty. _Yawn._ "

  
"It's a job I cannot ignore, especially after our most recent losses. We nearly lost Tobin, and Alm has been quite distraught at the state of our army." His smile never left his face. "It would do you well to consider helping every once in a while, if you've the time to quip about it."

  
Aaaagh, a lecture. From Lukas, of all people. "How mean, Lukey! I help out plenty! I'm an advisor of sorts too, right?"

  
"Only unofficially, as you've turned down the duty Sir Clive asked you to take. A rather bold move, if I must say."

  
He chuckled, and Python joined in. He couldn't help it; Lukas's laugh was so deep and smooth, and a fair bit rumbly... shit, he could bask in it.

  
"Well," Lukas announced, cutting into their pleasantries, "if you've no business with me, I think I'll be taking a break to check everyone's status in the medical wing. I suggest you busy yourself with something to do... before Forsyth arrives." A clear warning, and suddenly his handsome face passed Python. Before he had a chance to protest and follow along, a familiar yell boomed across the field, startling several other training soldiers out of their swings along the way--

  
" _Pyyyythoooooon!_ It's your turn for cooking duty, why isn't the food do--"

  
Python bolted before he could hear the rest.

 

  
...

 

  
It was late afternoon now. The sun was starting to set, and it cast large shadows over the area that grew longer every other minute. The day was ending in hues of orange, pink and eventually blue, and ol' Python was getting weary of waiting.

  
He would have followed Lukas into the tent before him, but the stench of salve, blood and various medicines always choked him up and made him nauseous. He hated going in there if he could help it - he'd much rather die in the comfort of his own tent, or maybe some strong guy's arms if it ever came to that.

  
So, instead, Python stood to the side, arms crossed and head lolling to one side.

  
To be honest, he was hoping to catch Lukas again, but for no particularly pressing reason. Something about the way he left so suddenly that morning had him yearning for more, but he wasn't sure what to talk about. Tomorrow? Eh. Not really a great conversation topic; he was kind of dreading it, anyway. A drink? He wasn't sure Lukas would even be up for one, since they need to get up at the ass-crack of dawn and all that.

  
Gah. To hell with planning, he'll just go with the flow. Alway works, every time.

  
"Python?"

  
The archer yelped, and his eyes refocused on the red menace standing right before him. "Y-yes!? I- I mean... Lukas!"

  
Lukas gave him a rough and concerned look, compounding the ire he wore prior to leaving the tent. Python quickly unfolded his arms and swallowed hard. He was afforded a tired sigh in return.

  
"Are you waiting for something? If you're seeking aid, I'm afraid we're running short of supplies. The trip into the shrine tomorrow may yield results, but..."  
His voice was low, tired with grief. Clearly not the kind where he's upset, but he didn't seem to want to stick around long. Python shook his head, and reached back with one hand to scratch his head. "No, I, uh... I'm fine. You look kinda frazzled, though... You alright there, pal?"

  
"I'm fine," was his response, terse and abrupt. Eyes (dark, but red, clearly red, like crimson but softer, more dull) flicked to the ground, avoiding Python's gaze, and then away from the camp entirely. "Just... tired. We've a long day yet ahead of us, and a longer day tomorrow. I should... prepare, for it."

  
Lukas took a couple forceful steps toward the training grounds, but a tug to his arm kept him from leaving entirely. He glanced back, his expression tightening with frustrating. "Python--"

  
"I'll go too."

  
"...?"

  
Python kept his grip on Lukas's wrist. It tightened, and his lips formed a straight line as he stared right into the soldier's face. He was serious, a rarity in times so harsh. Lukas could read him well, for he nodded a moment after, and gave in with a gentle "alright."

 

  
...

 

  
Python usually spent his afternoons snoozing, so he never really had a chance to check out the camp around this time. But he was glad he chose to tag along this time, because the sunset's last rays only intensified the beautiful glow about Lukas as he jammed his lance into the dummy again, and again, and again. Straw flew, his voice growled with unspent emotion, and every part of him was perfect, perfect down to the very last drop of sweat.

  
Lukas must have caught him staring, for he stopped whaling into the dummy to glance back at the man hunched over himself with his arms crossed and sitting on top of a crate left laying around by some lazy soldiers. Gasping for breath, he held his lance upright and let the butt of it clang to the ground with a muffled THWMP.

  
He thought Lukas might say something to him, but he did not. He thought he might say something back, but he didn't do that, either. For a single, solitary moment, they stood in the silence of one another, save the air they breathe and the howling of wind carrying the voices of the camp down to them.

  
Lukas's lips were plump and red. The way they sucked air in and out as he let his mouth hang open just slightly... the beads of sweat dribbling down his forehead, and the way they stained his bangs slightly, as they held together...

  
"... Python," the soldier started, and Python blinked a couple times, rapid in succession.

  
"Yeah?"

  
"I don't think I can use this dummy anymore."

  
Python's eyes reluctantly averted from Lukas to examine the damage done to the poor dummy. Its straw guts have been gutted out, and its form unrecognizable from the sheer amount of force dealt to it. Honestly, it looked like one of Forsyth's dummies on a bad day, when his form was severely off - this looked to be the same situation.

  
"Wow, you really did a number to that thing." Sitting up, Python pushed himself off the crate, stretched himself out, and then wandered over to him. "You feel better, yet? You were goin' at it pretty hard, y'know."

  
Lukas nodded, and he stared down shamefully at the dummy. "I'm not certain if I feel _better..._ but I am calmer. Still, that is no excuse for destroying a much-needed resource. Perhaps I should attempt to fix together another one..."

  
He moved to set his lance against the crate Python just sprang from, and then back to start brushing together hay when he's stopped by Python's hand to his shoulder. "Aw, don't worry about it," the archer comforted, as he swung around to Lukas's front, "I'm sure Clive, or Alm, or whoever, will understand. It's not like one training dummy's gonna make any difference, right? You're fine!"

  
"Python, I'm not sure you understand the circumstances." A frown that Python didn't want to see. "We're running low on just about everything, and we're being forced to loot a shrine, likely infested with Terrors, in order to restock what we can. The closer we approach the border, the more we risk running out. If I break something, I should have to--"

  
Lukas did not finish his thought. He hadn't the chance to.

  
Python's lips had met his own.

 

... ... ...It only truly lasted a moment, but Python felt it lasted an eternity.

  
When he pulled away, it was with determination, although it faltered at the muted shock that fell over Lukas's face. His face was firm, but his eyes wide, and his eyebrows higher. Whether it was from the kiss or from the hand that tilted his chin up and held his jaw so tenderly, he couldn't tell. And however Lukas might have looked, Python was certain he looked ten times worse, with a heart pounding so hard he thought it might break free and shaky breath that filtered in and out of his nose.

  
Neither man wanted to end the silence that enveloped them, but if neither did, Python was certain it would choke him instead. So, he did speak - but not his usual quips, or playful banter. His hand slipped away from Lukas's face, and he let his own head hang. "Sorry," was all he could get it.

  
It was quiet still, for the seconds following.

  
And then one hand - Lukas's hand, gloved and backed with armor - gently touched Python's cheek. Fingers brushed it, and then a warm palm, and then Python's eyes rose from the floor to meet Lukas's warm ones, and he swallowed thickly in his presence.

  
"It's alright," Lukas made out, his voice so soft and awkward that Python would have guessed this was his first kiss. And if it was... oh, Gods, what a terrible first kiss it would have been.

  
Then, his other hand came and cupped Python's face, and suddenly Python drew in a shivery breath, and his hands found Lukas's hands and they trailed down his impossibly thick, built arms to his armor and then to his chest and he couldn't help but pull him in and his forehead met Lukas's and

  
and he kissed the man again, chaste but curious, with his lips along the corner of Lukas's warm, soft mouth.

  
...

  
The rest of the night was a blur to Lukas. One moment he was in Python's arms, and the next they were walking back together, to join the rest of the army for supper, and then to bed. He had been asked to take the rest of the day off by Sir Clive, so he gladly took the opportunity to retire early and rest well.

  
But he couldn't rest. Not after what had happened. His mind was awhirl with fury, but not anger. A strange heat tinged his cheeks that he was unfamiliar with, and something burning and melty and foreign stirred in his chest as he set aside his lance, removed his armor, and prepared for bed.

  
As he stepped up to his bed roll, the burning in his chest flared, and he wasn't certain he could stop his mind from swimming, or his heart from pounding, or the sickening pit in his stomach telling him this wasn't where he wanted to be right now, or where he should be.

  
It made him want to puke, really. He decided he needed to seek out the origin of these feelings before he actually did.

  
Lukas walked out of his tent and headed straight for the one Python occupied. He shared one with Forsyth, as the two insisted upon it, but he sorely hoped he would not have to face his best friend on this night of all nights. The topic was sensitive, and he in need of relief.

  
Just as he approached their tent, he heard voices that were remarkably alike theirs - they must both be inside. He paused and stood a few feet away, staring at the entrance to the far right.

  
"...out for some air."

  
"You better come back soon, then. Tomorrow you'll be exploring that shrine!"

  
"I hear ya already. Yeesh, it's like you don't trust me anymore."

  
"I do, but I also know you. If you come back smelling like ale I'll tell every single person in the Deliverance not to let you drink ever again!"

  
"Right. See you later, ma." And out emerged the titular snake himself, sans armor and coat lined with chainmain. His frame was even thinner than Lukas recalled it being, although the tone in his arms was unmistakable even from this distance. He watched, wordlessly, as the man stretched his arms up and outward, yawned with a ferocity unmatched by any other person he's ever met, and then freeze as he locked eyes with Lukas.

  
He opened his mouth, and then promptly closed it. Lukas thought to open his mouth as well, but decided against it. He waved, meekly, and Python returned the wave.  
He waved again, but in a different way. _Come with me,_ his hand suggested, and Python followed right behind.

  
They walked for a while, Lukas returning the way he came and Python merely walking in his steps, but once they reach his tent is when he decided they were safe enough to speak. He stopped, prompting Python to stop behind him, turned, and whispered.

  
"I want to ask you something."

  
" _Me?_ " Python's voice broke, and he cleared his throat to try again. "I mean... uh, shoot, Lukas. What'dya wanna ask me...?"

  
Lukas stepped forward, and he held a hand out. Python nearly flinched, but when nothing happened, he slowly, hesitantly, like a glacier carves through a mountain, gave up a hand for the noble. Really, it was amusing to watch the normally-unrestrained archer act so timid, and he smiled as he drew the hand to his chest to hold.

  
"... Can you feel my heart beating?"

  
Python blinked rapidly, for the second time that day. "Y... yeah. I sure can, Lukas."

  
"Do you feel how fast it's beating? How hard it pounds?"

  
"... I guess I do... What's goin' on? You're not afraid or anythin', are ya? I never took you for a guy who had much to fear."

  
Lukas shook his head, and tilted his head down. He removed Python's hand from his chest, and then cupped it in both his own hands. "I don't know if I'm afraid or not. But I do know I have been feeling this way since this afternoon. So I thought you might have some sort of explanation for this. I presume it must be some form of love, but--"

  
"L-love!?" Lukas's train of thought was, once again, rudely interrupted by Python as he sputtered at the mere mention. "What, you!? ... _Me??_ I, uh--" cough, "wow. I knew my charms were wily, but not THAT good."

  
"Hmmhmhm," was all the reply Lukas had for him. Funny, that's what Python was. Incredibly funny... his eyes fell once again to Python's hand, and he turned it over once or twice to inspect it idly. "Well, perhaps they were. You managed to get my mind off of trying events, and that alone takes a hefty amount of skill. I'm impressed."

  
Python did not reply. He was speechless, really, but he did manage to conjure up a flustered grin so he could soak in the experience. And if he would not speak, then perhaps Lukas would do it for him.

  
He moved close, and Python did not push him away. He easily snaked his hand away from Lukas, but only so he could grip either of the smaller man's shoulders. Their faces floated close, and Lukas was pretty sure Python was milking the sight as he stared sharp, but deeply, into his face. Maybe he was waiting for something.

  
Lukas ended the wait with a kiss to Python's lips.

 

They're rough, like the rest of him, and at first touch he couldn't tell why, but when he pried away Python dragged him back in and he caught a glimpse of a tiny white scar or two before kissing again. And again. And again and again until he found himself heated and out of breath.

  
He hadn't intended to kiss for so long, and it wasn't until he pulled himself away that he could really breathe again. Needy as he was, Python stayed close to his face anyway, still kissing at his cheek with little noises and half-chuckles here and there as he poured love all over his face.

  
"Python," Lukas giggled (!) as he slipped a hand up between the two of them and pushed his face away, "Python, that's enough."

  
"Enough? For who? I've been waitin' forever for this opportunity, and I'm not about to shirk it."

  
"Have you? Then you can wait a while longer - we've a day to survive tomorrow, and I really do want to rest."

  
... Hahhh. A sigh of epic proportions, but it did get Python to stop pushing. "Ugh, don't remind me... I don't want to go. I wanna stay here, and sleep all day, and stay up all night, and now you're givin' me a reason to--" Mmmf.

  
His whining was met with one final kiss to his lips, before Lukas forcefully pried Python's hands off of him and backed away.

  
"I know how you feel, Python. So, let me give you an incentive." He brushed his palm over his lips, wiping them off. "Let us both survive tomorrow. And should we live to see another day... let us do so together."

  
There's an audible silence that followed his suggestion, but not one that was met with rejection. Python rolled his neck, hummed playfully, and then broke into a wide and confident grin. "Sure thing. Just know I'll be watchin' your ass to keep those Terrors off you..." And for other, unspoken reasons that Lukas was definitely privvy to.

  
"Of course. I shall do likewise... but for now, goodnight, Python."

  
"Right... nighty night, ginger stud."

  
Python flicked his hand in a half-wave at Lukas, and meandered back to his tent without a care in the world.

  
And Lukas? He would never dream so vividly again in his life.


End file.
